The Light Within
by Mara Sevvie
Summary: The members of the Justice League save a young woman who knows much more than the League bargained for, yet Batman himself trusts her and takes her in. But this stranger's arrival prompts secrets and events that could not have been foretold and inadvertently leads to the creation of the mysterious persona known only as 'Enigma'.
1. Chapter 1: Complicated

Disclaimer: I do not own _Justice League_, which is the property of DC Comics, Cartoon Network, etc. Nor do I make any profit from this story. (Note: I will not repeat this in future chapters.)

A/N: It's another insert-an-OC for me, but I really enjoy these. This story begins a little after the cartoon episode _The Terror Beyond_, and quite some time before the next episode _Secret Society_. The year is 2013 and I have totally messed with ages and dates so it will fit my particular story.

This will not be a priority story right now, but I wanted to get this idea out there and see what people think of it.

**Chapter 1: Complicated**

* * *

It seemed like an easy morning mission from the moment the call came in from the mayor's office. Four villains – all amateurs – causing a ruckus on the outskirts of Detroit. Hence why Green Lantern was presently rounding up the escapees, who had been easily caught with a few simple tactics of the military variety. All four were now tied up and ready to be taken into police custody.

Suddenly a blast went off on Green Lantern's left, sending showers of brick and glass and debris of all kinds flying thirty feet out from the wall of a nearby drugstore.

"What the—?" The hero jumped back in shock as he glanced down at a villain he had not known about — Devil Ray was stepping from the middle of the cloud, holding his gun to the head of a brown-haired teenage girl who looked as horrified as the lantern felt. Tears streamed silently down her face, but he was willing to bet she didn't even know it.

"Devil Ray! He has a hostage!" he called out, both to warn J'onn over the recently activated communicator and to stop the police from closing in and possibly causing the girl's demise. The police didn't even hear him over their own chattering tumult and that of the incoming news crew, which clearly didn't understand the point of dangerous.

And of course, Green Lantern hadn't accepted help from someone else for this mission. J'onn had offered, as had Flash, but Lantern refused it and said he could handle it easy. All because he was too proud to let his hometown get protected by anyone else. He knew it was a big enough job, with four villains all loose in the same low-down area. But he hadn't thought about hostages in the mix, he had obviously underestimated his quarries, and he had not expected an extra villain to show up.

"They told us there were only four bad guys loose!" Flash incredulously remarked up in the watchtower, avidly watching the news channel J'onn had pulled up as he leaned over the Martian's shoulder.

"And no civilians left in the area," J'onn added agitatedly, searching furiously for any layouts of the buildings in the immediate vicinity of the scuffle. The government files were frustratingly lacking. Apparently this disorganization was another area of ineptitude the local government faced.

"Looks like they missed one on both counts," Green Lantern angrily remarked, hurrying to stop the police again, "Stand down! We have a hostage situation!"

Unfortunately for the lantern, the police didn't hear anything of his second warning, thanks to another blast from a nearby liquor store and the resulting commotion.

"What was that?" J'onn asked sharply, pausing mid-search to look up at the screen and find another cloud of debris floating in the air.

"One of Devil Rays' party favors was a little late," Green Lantern answered sarcastically, following with his eyes as the villain in question slipped hurriedly into a jewelry store with his hostage. Catching sight of the empty parking lot behind the building, Green Lantern grew alarmed. Hadn't the police even thought to block off the next street?

Now he knew why criminals got away with so much in the city of his birth.

"I'm going around back," he told J'onn. "They haven't even blocked off the other side."

"There should be a connecting door between the front and back of the jewelry store," the Martian informed him, finally having found a recent schematic of the street's businesses. "You may be able to avoid detection that way, but I am sending in the nearest backup. If Devil Ray is any example, there could be someone waiting in the wings for the right moment to strike. Stand by."

As the communicator beeped in standby, Green Lantern flew around the neighboring doughnut shop in the hopes of avoiding detection and headed to the back of the jewelry store, slipping inside silently, his ring at the ready. Through the minuscule opening from the door between front and back, Green Lantern could see Devil Ray was now making demands of the police through the shaking voice of another civilian who had been overlooked and was now at the point of the villain's gun. The shop owner was probably old enough to be Lantern's grandfather and he was feeble to boot. Devil Ray just had to take up the weakest victims, apparently. Not that it surprised Lantern.

The girl from outside was nowhere in Green Lantern's immediate line of vision and he hoped she wasn't already dead. For all he knew, Devil Ray could have muffled the sound of the gun being fired so no one would suspect yet.

Lantern didn't know how to slip into the shop behind his quarry without alerting the villain and forcing a shooting. The slightest creak from the intervening door and he would give himself away. To make things worse, he could see a booby trap atop the mostly-closed wooden barrier.

All of a sudden his communicator beeped out of standby.

"Backup is in the vicinity," J'onn spoke quietly to Lantern, having located him as being inside the building already. "But be careful. Both hostages are still alive and neither is going to be easily freed."

In a slight twist of luck, Devil Ray arrogantly loosened the hold on his gun, holding it at an awkward angle for shooting. In the few seconds it took to aim and shoot, Green Lantern could knock the gun away with a burst of green energy.

He was startled from his planning by the sudden sound of gunfire out in front. Were the police crazy?

"They're nuts!" Flash echoed incredulously, jaw dropping as he watched the police open fire as a warning. J'onn practically growled his frustration.

Green Lantern thought quickly of some sort of plan. Devil Ray was ready to pull the trigger, lifting the gun into position, and he all of a few seconds to stop it.

Just when Green Lantern had his ring aimed through the crevice of the doorway, a dark object came hurling out of nowhere to knock the gun across the room from its user. Sparing the briefest of glances at the object, he noticed the distinct shape of a batarang. Relief bled into the lantern's system. If anyone could sneak into the situation so easily without Devil Ray's notice, it was Batman.

The shop owner dived with surprising agility for his age, just as the caped crusader swooped in through the smashed front window. Taking advantage of the noise, Green Lantern threw open the door and aimed. Devil Ray knew he was caught, but as the green energy rushed to enclose him, he threw something tiny at the trembling girl huddled off to the side of the room.

She began to scream shrilly when it made contact, and it wasn't until after Lantern caught Devil Ray in an energy field that he realized the thrown object had been a tiny dart. Leaving Batman to hurry over and assess the girl, whose latest scream ended too abruptly for his liking, Lantern angrily took Devil Ray out to the waiting police escort.

It was ironic how quickly the event had ended when he had backup, Green Lantern decided as he watched the criminals get carted away and the shop owner undergo a checkup by the lone medic on the scene. One more mark against his hometown, the hero thought resignedly.

"Lantern!"

Turning at the sound of Batman's urgent voice, Green Lantern rushed back inside the store to find the other man leaning over the first hostage with deep concern on the part of his face that Lantern could see. The girl looked half dead; her breathing was shallow and her already pale skin leaned towards translucence more than any particular color. Strange little gashes that looked slightly blue around the edges littered her face and what was visible of her skin elsewhere didn't look much better.

"What can I do?" he responded quickly, crouching near the two.

"Take her up to watchtower," Batman instructed him at top speed. "J'onn will give her the ellipsis treatment."

"Ellipsis!" Green Lantern exclaimed in shock. "But isn't that the Scarecrow's new drug? How did Devil Ray get it? And why are we taking a civilian up to the watchtower?"

"I don't know the how yet," was the curt reply. "I do know she'll die without treatment in the next two hours. And the watchtower is the only place that has any. I used the last of my stores when Harley Quinn spread the trash around Gotham last week. It was running far too rampantly."

"What are _you _going to do?" Green Lantern asked, distantly curious why Batman was not joining him in assuring the girl's welfare.

"I have to find out what I can about this incident. Now go!"

Green Lantern had always appreciated the ability to travel through space without waiting for a vehicle. Now, with a dying young girl on his hands, the lantern was even more grateful. He cut it close enough as it was. Waiting for a transport would have meant the girl's death.

J'onn was already waiting in the med bay with the treatment set up when the former marine flew in with his charge and swiftly laid her on the nearest bed. Her skin had generated twice as many of the odd gashes since Green Lantern left Earth for the watchtower. She was bleeding profusely now, something J'onn looked rather concerned about, but did not speak of out loud as he waved Green Lantern and Flash away.

It was two hours later that the Martian finally exited the med bay. Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, and Superman had since returned from their mission in Guatemala and gleaned every possible detail from the two waiting heroes by the time J'onn appeared.

"How is she?" Superman asked for all of them.

"She is healing well," the Martian smiled vaguely. "Her body was healthy before Devil Ray gave her the ellipsis, which always aids in recovery time. Most of the gashes have been sealed, thanks to the accelerant Batman added to the antidote. She is sedated now."

"Thank Hera," Wonder Woman sighed.

"Do we have any idea why today happened?" Hawkgirl questioned them concernedly.

"It does seem a little odd that four villains escaped and then were caught so easily," Green Lantern admitted unhappily. "With no real purpose accomplished either."

"Then Devil Ray shows up unexpectedly," Flash added. "Throwing bombs everywhere."

"And gives a random girl some toxin that shouldn't even be out in Gotham after what happened last time, let alone a couple states away," Superman sighed worriedly. "It is troublesome, I agree. But we really don't have enough information right now. Batman should be able to find something significant to work with."

"Any idea when he's coming back?" Wonder Woman asked.

"You know Batman," Superman shook his head. "Not until he's ready."

"What about the girl?" Hawkgirl brought up. "Do we know who she is?"

"Not yet," J'onn responded. "She did not have any identification on her person."

"What about a blood sample?" the Thanagarian wondered.

"I do not wish to take a blood sample when she has already lost so much," J'onn shook his head. "I have set up a transfusion with the donated blood Batman obtained for the med bay. After the transfusion is complete and she wakes, I will have to take a sample to check for any lingering infections anyway, so I will be able to check her identity then."

"When do you expect her to wake up?" Lantern inquired.

"The sedative will wear off in approximately four hours. Other than that, I do not know."

"We can wait," Wonder Woman decided firmly. "She needs rest after dealing with that toxin."

"We need to contact her family as soon as we know who she is, though," Superman suggested sympathetically. "They must be worried sick about her."

"Still, it's important to get as much information from her as we can," Green Lantern declared sternly. "That girl is the only person who seems to be really connected to this whole thing. The jewelry store owner didn't have a clue what was going on, so we can't learn anything from him."

"Why should that girl know more than the shop owner did?" Hawkgirl commented, frowning.

"I don't know, but for some reason I think she does," the green-clad man announced. "If Batman doesn't come back with something before the sedative wears off, I'm going to ask that girl some questions."

"For her sake, I hope we see Bats before the four hours is up," Flash muttered as Green Lantern stalked off irritably.

Four hours came and went.

Flash and Wonder Woman caught Copperhead and Killer Frost in Turkey, while Superman took care of a terrorist at the United Nations.

Hawkgirl nearly removed the heads of a particularly stupid group of armed robbers in D.C., who apparently thought it would be funny to mock her angelic-looking wings. That was, of course, before she launched into their midst with her mace lifted into the air and a Herculean war cry on her lips.

Green Lantern actually snorted when he and J'onn watched it on the monitor screen.

Still there was no sign of Batman on the watchtower.

Lantern did, indeed, head into the medical bay exactly one minute after eleven o'clock — the four-hour mark. The other five leaguers followed disapprovingly, yet curious in spite of themselves. J'onn carefully checked the patient's vitals and forced Green Lantern to wait until he was certain of her faculties.

Fifteen minutes after they had arrived in the med bay, the girl's pale lids fluttered open to reveal eyes the color of a stormy sea. When her still-drowsy gaze fell on her Martian caretaker, the first words out of the girl's mouth put Green Lantern on edge and everyone else in shock.

"J'onn J'onnz?" she queried groggily, albeit a little reluctantly, then immediately asked, "Am I in the watchtower?"

Even J'onn was at a loss as to how she knew his name, staring at his patient in amazement. Before anyone else could say a world, Green Lantern started in with his questions, rougher than he had originally planned to be, now that he knew the girl had above-average information she should not have.

"How do you know where you are?" he grated out, arms folded across his chest as he stalked forward to stand beside her bed.

"Wait until she is fully awake," J'onn sharply reprimanded his colleague, the strength in his words giving the lantern pause, although to his satisfaction it didn't take long for the girl to wake up completely, staring at the upset lantern in surprise.

"What happened?" she wondered skittishly.

"What is the last thing you remember?" J'onn asked calmly.

"Devil Ray hit me with some kind of dart," she responded, trying hard to concentrate through the fog she had been under for the last ten hours. "It felt like someone poured acid all over me and I just started screaming. Then Batman hovered over me for a minute, injected me with something. After that I must have blacked out, I guess. I don't remember much else. Except once… something else poked my arm. But I never really woke up from it."

"That would have been the antidote I administered," J'onn explained. "Batman's injection was a general pre-medication for pain and infection."

"Thank you," the girl smiled vaguely at J'onn, absently rubbing her arms.

"As I said a moment ago," Green Lantern abruptly continued as if he had never been interrupted, "how do you know where you are?"

"I didn't until now," the girl remarked, although the quaver in her voice decreased the effect of the words. Hawkgirl had to hold in a snort all the same.

Green Lantern was none too pleased with her wit, ignoring her answer and moving on rudely, "All right, we'll start with a question you can comprehend. What's your name?"

"Meara," the girl offered hesitantly, looking reluctant to divulge that information to her rude interviewer. "My name is Meara."

"A very unique name," Wonder Woman smiled at the girl, trying to soothe her. Answers would come easier if Green Lantern would just ease up a little.

"What's your last name?" the hero in question took over the interview again, much to everyone's consternation, setting the girl back on edge.

"Nolan," she replied, shrinking but barely at the perpetual scowl on her interrogator's face.

"Miss Nolan," Superman cut in finally, having had enough of his fellow leaguer's attitude for the time being, "Can you tell us anything else about what happened today?"

"Not really," she replied nervously, shifting awkwardly on the bed. "I remember I was leaving class and my ride didn't show up, so I had to walk. In the middle of the way back, I… found myself being dragged off."

"Funny, but I recall that today is a _Saturday_," Green Lantern pointed out sarcastically.

"What's that got to do with it?" Meara wondered blankly. Except for Lantern, everyone became a little worried for her psychological well-being.

"You're really going to stick with that?" Lantern asked irritably.

"Yes, I am," Meara firmly replied.

"Is there any particular reason that he would choose you?" Wonder Woman asked.

"None that I know of," the girl answered, shaking her head in the negative.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Green Lantern exclaimed in agitation.

"Lantern, stop," Hawkgirl ordered him sternly, but he wasn't listening.

"Who are your parents?" the suspicious hero asked.

"Gerald and Shannon Nolan," she answered, resigned to his interrogation.

"Grandparents?" he went on quickly.

"Brody and Connie Nolan, Cameron and Isla O'Neil," was the prompt response.

"With your permission, Miss Nolan," Superman spoke again, stopping Lantern in his tracks. "J'onn wanted to take a blood sample, to make certain there is no residue from the toxin left in your bloodstream."

The girl sighed deeply before responding, "Which essentially means you want to make sure I am who I say I am, correct?"

"Er…" Superman floundered, leaving J'onn to pick up the discussion with a hint of amusement.

"I apologize, Miss Nolan," the Martian smiled a tiny bit. "I do not mean to question your sincerity, but we must be sure of everything."

"Go ahead, then," she sighed more heavily than before. "Although I have a bad feeling you won't find me on any registry on Earth."

"Why not?" Lantern jumped in instantly, suspicious.

"I can't explain," she admitted slowly, reluctantly. "I don't know how I know, it's just a feeling."

"Why don't we let J'onn find out exactly what you know?" Green Lantern suggested harshly.

"I am not going to interrogate her for no reason," J'onn argued.

"No reason?" Lantern repeated incredulously, forcing himself to lower his voice and drag the Martian off to the side of the room, followed by the others. "She knew you and this station without ever having been here before!"

"She might have heard one of you say my name while she was half-asleep," the Martian pointed out rationally. "And if I am here, with an orbit of Earth in the background…"

"She could have simply connected the two," Superman completed the sentence. "That's true."

"Look," Meara spoke up, face weary as the superheroes continued to argue in inaudible whispers. "If you're not opposed, I would probably prefer to have J'onn look into my mind and see that way. It's much simpler."

"Are you certain?" J'onn asked in concern, returning to her side.

"Positive," she confirmed.

"Very well," he nodded, settling himself in the seat beside her bed and reaching out to create the connection to her mind.

It took approximately fifty minutes for J'onn to get what he needed before he left his charge's mind, face clearer than it had been all that day.

"You should rest now," he told Meara, helping her to lie back onto her bed tiredly. She was even more tired than before, it seemed.

The six leaguers took their conversation out into the med bay observatory while the girl rested, Wonder Woman and Flash both offering reassuring smiles as they left the room.

"How do we know she isn't lying about these relatives of hers?" Green Lantern wondered archly, throwing a suspicious glance at the now-sleeping girl on the other side of the glass.

"She is telling the truth," J'onn shook his head somewhat mournfully. "Her memories are quite real. And very emotional in some cases. Such strong attachment would not be present in her mind otherwise."

"Then why in the heck can't we find her or any of her family in our databases?" Flash questioned in surprise, lifting his arms up confusedly.

"Perhaps she's from an alternate timeline?" Wonder Woman suggested thoughtfully. "We've _have_ seen that before."

Superman started at the mention, clarifying uncomfortably, "The Justice Lords?"

"I doubt she would know all about our world if that was the case," J'onn added with a shake of his head. "The Justice Lords would not want anyone to remember the way things were before they took power."

"You don't think they…" Hawkgirl began to suggest tentatively, but was almost afraid to continue her sobering thought.

"Sent her on purpose?" Superman finished the unspoken thought for her, nodding a little in thought. "I hate to say it, but I wondered about that."

"You hate to say it?" Green Lantern questioned the man of steel in shock. "We have a possible threat on our hands and you're worried about thinking badly of the source?"

"Well, I know I may sound naïve," Superman responded with a sigh that said he knew they would definitely think him just that, "but I feel like we can trust this girl. There's something about her…"

"You feel drawn to her," Wonder Woman offered up knowingly. "Like you need to help her."

"Exactly," Superman replied, stunned. "How did you know that?"

"Because I feel it too," the Amazon admitted warily. "I didn't want to say anything, in case I was just putting emotions ahead of rational fact because I felt badly for her."

"I didn't feel any of that," Green Lantern stubbornly held to his suspicion, making Superman sigh again, this time exasperatedly.

"I did, though," Hawkgirl confessed equally as carefully as Wonder Woman. Her gaze jumped to the young woman in the other room with cautious interest.

"So did I," J'onn agreed quietly.

"I don't know if that's what I felt," Flash entered the conversation again, "but I don't think she's going to cause us any trouble. Does that count?"

Wonder Woman smiled at the speedster. "I think it's close enough, Flash."

"I still say Hawkgirl's idea was the right one," Green Lantern kept up his hard-headed approach, crossing his arms defensively.

"Hey, don't put that off on me!" the woman in question immediately responded, glaring at him. "I just wondered if it was possible. I didn't say it was the best idea out there!"

"What does it matter?" he barked back. "She could be dangerous! What if she has the power to make us _think_ we can trust her, even if we actually shouldn't?"

"She doesn't have any powers at all," came a familiar, gruff voice from the entrance to the med bay. Everyone except Superman turned suddenly to find the hero they had been waiting on. Only he was now leveling a glare towards Green Lantern.

"What's your problem?" the green-clad hero wondered in surprise. Usually Batman was the first to follow conspiracy theories, so it was a bit of a shock to have him disagree.

"I know who she and her family are," Batman responded sharply.

"What?"

"You _do_?"

"How do you know?"

"Where are they from?"

"Who is she _really_?"

"If we didn't find her on either the civilians or supers database, how could you?"

Ironically, it was the longest and final question delivered by Flash that the caped crusader answered.

"I used my own resources," was all he would say, but for the young hero who asked the question, it explained everything.

"So what kind of person is she?" Superman inquired curiously, mind more at ease now that Batman supported the validity of the girl in their care.

"A normal young woman with a tragic history," was the curt answer.

"_Young woman_?" Wonder Woman ventured, lifting one eyebrow in question. "How old is she, exactly?"

"She couldn't be any older than fifteen," Superman inserted with furrowed brows.

"Twenty-one," Batman replied shortly, irritated by the interruption.

"What!" Hawkgirl, Flash and Green Lantern all shouted as once, jaws falling open slightly.

Superman blinked owlishly. "You have to be joking."

"I'm not," Batman snapped. "She was born in 1992 on August 20th."

"Okay, then," Flash was the first to recover.

"That explains why she was talking about classes on a Saturday," Superman sighed in some relief. "She must be in college."

"This still doesn't explain how she knew this was the watchtower on first sight," Green Lantern argued suddenly, the next to recover in the group. "And how did she know who J'onn was? I don't remember any of us actually saying his name in the med bay, so don't try and pull _that_ on me again."

Batman became suddenly uncomfortable as he explained, "That's where it gets complicated."

"What do you mean?" Wonder Woman asked, catching his slight fidgeting.

"Meara Nolan is from an alternate universe, so to speak."

"It _is _like the Justice Lords, then," Hawkgirl clarified in surprise.

"No, it isn't," Batman countered with forced patience. "The Justice Lords were from a different _timeline._ It was essentially the same people, but the events they experienced were changed. Meara is from a different _reality_. Her world is – or _was _– totally unlike ours in many ways."

"In _what _ways?" Green lantern asked, echoing everyone's lingering confusion.

"There are no superheroes in her world," he explained plainly.

"No…" Flash trailed off in disbelief, staring at Batman along with everyone else.

"How do they manage?" Hawkgirl recovered. "With meta-humans, aliens, robotically altered villains…"

"None of those things exist either."

Silence descended like an overbearingly hot blanket on the assembled group.

"What else is different?" J'onn asked in spite of the disquiet.

"Technology did not reach nearly the level of sophistication that ours has," Batman responded. "Other than that, I don't know. That was all I was able to confirm from the views I was given, aside from Meara's family and history."

"You went to Zatanna, didn't you?" Superman asked curiously.

Batman just glared at him for revealing his source.

"Then _how does she know about us_?" Green Lantern loudly and irritably repeated, gritting his teeth with a fierce expression and narrowed eyes.

"You know GL, I think you're turning into Bats," Flash remarked thoughtlessly, earning himself two particularly frightening glares. "…Erm …Sorry?"

"Well?" Lantern pressed after a minute.

"We were a cartoon show," Batman replied grimly.

"Huh?" was Hawkgirl's eloquent response.

"In Meara's reality, we were just fictional characters," he went on. "She watched a cartoon show called 'Justice League' when she was in high school. And she saw a variety of movies and other TV shows about us as well."

"So she knows all about… everything?" Superman's voice edged up a notch, nervousness setting in anew. "About each of us?"

"Everything," Batman confirmed with a grave expression.

"Where that does leave us, then?" Wonder Woman pondered. Not having a real secret identity, she was not nearly as worried as the others were, although she could understand their trouble. Particularly from Batman's standpoint.

"I'm going to find her a safe place to live," Batman answered, returning to his stoic persona instantly. "She's in enormous danger if anyone knows about her background. As will we be."

"Who are you going to put her with?" J'onn inquired, frowning thoughtfully.

"Someone who'll be able to handle her past," was the cryptic answer.

"You still haven't explained that, by the way," Green Lantern spoke up, startling the others slightly. He had been silent for a while. His face was still edgy, but not nearly as heated as it had been before.

"And I'm not _going_ _to_!" was the Batman's especially harsh response as he swooped out of the room and into the adjoining one to speak with the girl, who had woken again at the league's earlier synchronized shout.

"Meara," he spoke less harshly, albeit still sternly.

"Batman," she replied, nodding at him tentatively. He was definitely far more imposing than any cartoon could show. The movies were pretty spot on about his chilling appearance. At five feet tall, she felt minuscule in comparison. No wonder criminals feared the Batman so greatly.

"You know," he said plainly.

"I do," Meara answered, biting her lip when she tried to discern any emotion in his half-covered face. She couldn't. "I'd never tell."

"I believe you," he remained simple in his replies.

"What are you going to do about me?" she asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" his voice seemed a touch gentler than before, though not much.

"Well, I'm a liability, aren't I? You probably want to ship me off with plastic surgery and a whole new life story to some backwater country so I won't get tracked down and interrogated into somehow revealing your deepest, darkest secrets. Right?"

Hard though it was to tell, when Meara glanced up at him, she could have sworn the corners of his lip curled up for all of a split-second.

"I'd actually prefer to keep you under my supervision," Batman explained. "For your own safety, as well as ours."

"So I'm going to be another… orphan?"

"Weren't you already?"

Bowing her head, Meara nodded.

"It's the best way," Batman finalized the matter.

"When do I go?" she asked, still looking down her pale hands lying on the white sheets.

"Tonight. Thirty minutes."

"Um… I don't have any…" Meara started to say, then flushed slightly in embarrassment as she looked over at her decimated yet neatly folded clothing lying on a nearby table.

"Better make it an hour," Batman responded after a pause, reaching over to grasp the offending clothing. "I'll return shortly."

Forty minutes on, he came back to the med bay with a black track suit with a double white stripe that was a little too long on Meara, and a pair of short, fleece-lined boots to match. On the trek to the hangar, she wondered who the items belonged to, but shook the thought off. It didn't really matter in the long run.

Indeed, the owner of her borrowed clothing slipped completely from her mind when they reached their destination.

"Do you have anything for nausea?" Meara asked weakly while staring at the Batwing with immense discomfort.

"Are you always this queasy?"

"It depends," Meara replied with a half shrug. "I get car sick a lot. And I hate heights and rollercoasters. I have a feeling riding through space might feel like a mix of all three."

Batman hesitated all of three seconds before saying firmly, "Come with me."

They entered the commissary a couple minutes later, where Batman poured her a small cup of water and reached into his utility belt to offer up a small green tablet. Meara gladly gulped it down.

"It won't work for fifteen minutes yet," the caped crusader explained, gesturing for her to take a seat by the window. To Meara's surprise, he joined her.

"Thank you," she said after several moments of awkward silence. "I usually say it sooner, but…"

"You're welcome," Batman replied, not bothering to respond to the latter half of her statement.

The rest of their wait commenced in a silence only slightly less awkward than the first, until finally he stood from the table and gestured for her to follow.

The inside of the batwing was strange, yet fascinating. For most of her life, Meara had grown up idolizing comic book characters like Batman and the Justice League. Now she was inside the real Batwing with Batman himself and didn't quite know what to do with herself. But it seemed putting on her seat belt would be a good start, so she tried to do so.

Unfortunately, the arrangement was a bit cumbersome and complicated, and she hardly knew where to put which parts of the belt.

"Um… I don't know how—" she started to say, but black-gloved hands suddenly appeared halfway through her sentence and rapidly rigged the belt before disappearing again. As the cockpit closed over them, she was able to mutter, "…Thanks."

Batman grunted from the front of the aircraft and jumpstarted the engine. The moment the thing began moving, Meara felt very glad she had taken that little green tablet.

For the entire ride, the young woman closed her eyes against the constant stress running through her body. She had been right. The ride was just like carsickness, vertigo, and a rollercoaster all at once. Not a good combination; she felt dizzy most of the way there.

Vaguely in the background of her calming mental mantra, Meara heard Batman talking to someone, but couldn't concentrate enough to know who or why. Only once they finally landed – smoothly, Meara gratefully noticed – and the cockpit opened, did she find out.

"Welcome back, Master Wayne," came a welcoming voice from nearby, the accent unmistakable. "I was able to prepare a room for your guest to sleep in, sir, as you asked over the communicator."

"Thank you, Alfred," Batman responded, reaching over to undo Meara's belt apparatus for her. When she did not move or react, he lifted her straight out of the Batwing, carrying her down to the ground and across the room to a cushioned seat. Still a little dizzy, she didn't dare open her eyes.

"Breathe deeply, Miss," Alfred instructed her calmly. "The dizziness will go away quite soon."

"How did you know?" Meara asked through a heavy mouthful of glorious oxygen, something she had been rather short of since entering the confines of Batman's aircraft.

"Experience, Miss. Experience," he chuckled. His humor calmed her more than his instructions had, finally getting her to open her eyes to the world.

Standing a few feet away, Alfred looked dressed for a full day of work, rather than a man having just been awoken from what was probably a good night's sleep. Or not, considering what his surrogate son did for a night job.

Speaking of which, Batman had disappeared into thin air. When Alfred noticed her looking around curiously for her host, he chuckled more loudly this time.

"Don't worry, miss," he said reassuringly. "He's still there."

"Oh," she mumbled, cheeks turning pink.

"Dizziness gone?"

"I think so," Meara nodded, now allowing her curiosity to wander around the bat cave. It was slightly creepy, particularly the bats she knew were hanging high above, but at least it was safe.

"Do you feel up to standing on your own feet, then?" Alfred smiled, offering a hand up. Taking it, she was surprised by how strong his grip was.

At that moment Bruce Wayne, not the Batman, entered the room in a t-shirt and track pants not dissimilar to her own. They seemed like a stock creation.

"I see you are putting Miss Barbara's old workout clothes to use, sir," Alfred commented, throwing a more careful glance down at Meara's outfit than he had at first.

"She won't mind," Bruce said wryly. "She hates the stripes."

"I sort of like them," Meara admitted quietly, feeling silly.

"Well, then I'll have some made in your size," he informed her. "We can talk about that tomorrow, though. You should get some sleep."

"I feel like I already slept forever," she sighed. "Do I have to?"

"Your body is still recovering," he firmly responded. "You need rest."

"All right," Meara mumbled, following both men up the staircase to the manor itself. It was exciting, she had to admit to herself, coming up through the grandfather clock. Secret entrances were always fascinating.

"Which room did you prepare, Alfred?" Bruce asked as he waited for the clock to close completely.

"The Aether Room, sir," the butler answered. "I thought it would be soothing after the events of the day."

"A good choice," Bruce smiled slightly at the man. "Goodnight to you both, then."

"Goodnight Master Wayne," Alfred intoned, Meara nodding along. With that, Bruce turned down the right hallway and Alfred led his new charge down the left.

"Might I ask your name now, Miss?"

The young woman blinked in surprise and glanced back down the hall as Bruce disappeared into his room. "He didn't tell you?"

"I'm afraid not," Alfred sighed. Some exasperation laced his words. "As you have probably realized, the Batman is not a particularly verbose creature under normal circumstances. The briefest of explanations were given as to a guest in the manor who knew the truth. Other than what I heard from the two of you in the cave just now, I am quite at a loss."

"My name is Meara Nolan," she replied. "Green Lantern and Batman saved me from Devil Ray this morning and I had to go up to the watchtower. I spent most of the day unconscious, though."

"Ah, the usual way Master Wayne seems to meet his houseguests," Alfred commented sarcastically. Meara muffled her laughter. "I do hope your injuries have not been aggravated by the jaunt in the Batwing?"

"I didn't really have any injuries to speak of," Meara answered. "Devil Ray gave me some toxin and it did create these strange marks all over me, but Batman's antidote healed them while I was out of it."

"Which toxin was it this time?" the butler inquired with resentment of the unfortunate things that littered Gotham.

"I don't know. I didn't really think to ask, considering it was already healed."

"Well, we can all discuss the situation tomorrow," Alfred left it at that. "Ah, here is your room, Miss Nolan."

The elegantly carved door opened silently beneath his fingers, revealing a room that reminded Meara of a seaside retreat. The enormous bed was covered with pale blue sheets and covers and innumerable pillows, topped off with a simple white headboard, and surrounded by thin white sheers held up by a track on the ceiling; there were no bedposts. The walls were painted a sandy color, similar to the warm sandstone floor. The windows – beautiful, glorious, _gigantic_ windows – were draped with cool blue sheers and an overlying curtain to match the floor. All the furniture was white like the headboard, all simple and plain, yet somehow expensive-looking. Meara felt instantly comfortable.

"This is beautiful," she told Alfred quietly, smiling slightly at her surroundings.

"Master Wayne's mother enjoyed the seaside very much," Alfred explained softly. "She wanted at least one room in the manor to feel like a weekend away. So Master Thomas gave her four such rooms, all overlooking different parts of the estate."

Meara laughed lightly at the tale, imagining what it must have been like to live in this house before the tragedy struck. It must have been a beautiful life.

"I'll leave you to your rest," said Alfred after a moment of quiet. "I'm afraid you only have another track suit to change into in the morning, but that will all turn around very soon."

"Thank you, Alfred," Meara smiled at him, "Good night."

"Good night, Miss Nolan," he returned her smile before heading to the door, leaving only a soft click in his wake.

Meara gratefully climbed onto the huge bed and curled up under the covers. Her body was surprisingly stiff and regardless how long she had already rested that day, it was a relief to stretch out on the soft, cool sheets and let sleep overwhelm her tired senses at last.

* * *

A/N: Meara is pronounced "MEER-ah." It's an Irish name which means 'ocean.' Hence why it fits the girl with "eyes the color of a stormy sea."

I used 2013 as the setting because it's an odd number and it sounds kind of unlucky upon first impression, just like Meara does.

My inspiration and background for this story is mainly the cartoon _Justice League_ (and J.L. Unlimited), as well as the Nolan Batman movies (hey, I even used their name) and some _Batman: TAS_. I don't do the comics unless I really like an event in them, which is rare. I love Michael Caine, Heath Ledger, and Christian Bale in their roles, so I will mostly be using their incarnations for those specific characters. And I will probably include Morgan Freeman's Lucius Fox at some point. Otherwise, everyone is based on the cartoon.

Please Review!


	2. Chapter 2: Forewarned

A/N: Yeah, I have no idea how Zatanna's powers work, so I'm improvising entirely whenever they may be mentioned.

**Chapter 2: Forewarned**

* * *

Morning peeked into the Aether Room with subdued rays of sunshine, just enough to wake its slumbering occupant to a comfortable bed and a mercifully relaxed body. The previous day seemed little more than a bad dream, although the young woman remembered it very clearly. Being in the middle of things was far worse than thinking back on them, often enough.

Just when Meara easily stretched out, lifting her hands high above her messy head of hair and yawning widely, a sort of battle cry startled her half out of her mind, followed by a something large landing almost completely on top of her. Meara yelped in shock and curled up under the covers, away from the form she had yet to see. Meara tried very hard to think through the possibilities. She was in Bruce Wayne's house. Protected by the Batman himself. What in the world could get to her there?

"Bruce wants you downstairs!" a young voice called far too loudly, making Meara wince, although it did explain her predicament.

How could she have forgotten about Batman's sidekick? And based on Bruce's apparent age, it was not Richard Grayson waking her now. Somehow, she had a feeling the first Robin wouldn't have done this to a strange visitor in their home.

Feeling especially irritable that Tim Drake was such a little... well, a donkey… Meara decided to at least try and get him back for it. Even as Bruce's annoyed voice sounded from the doorway, Meara peeked up at her attacker, judging his position, and suddenly leapt up from her place in a familiar move and slammed into him from behind.

Tim yelped loudly as the both of them fell towards the side of the bed, but only Tim actually slipped over the edge, falling hard on his backside. Pulling up onto her knees in the middle of the mattress, Meara crossed her arms and looked coolly down at her would-be 'assailant,' who was staring up at her in amazement. Bruce snorted in the doorway.

"That's why you should never let your guard down," he reproached the boy, who looked to be around his early teens and was still staring. Meara shot him and annoyed look.

"Master Drake!" Alfred reprimanded the teen with a heated expression, having just arrived in the doorway. "Come out of there at once!"

Tim scurried to his feet as quickly as he could, ducking out of the room as Alfred tried to smack his head with a folded newspaper. They could hear Alfred scolding him all the way down the hall.

"Manners are completely lost on you. Bursting in on a lady like that! If you ever do that again I'll give you dish-washing duty for the next month!"

"Aw, Alfred, it was just a joke," Tim tried in a mock whine.

"_And_ laundry!"

"Okay, okay!" the boy scrambled to agree before getting loaded with chores.

Bruce snorted a second time, shaking his head as he turned back to Meara. "Sorry about that. Tim's thirteen. Wild as they come. I didn't realize he'd heard me talking with Alfred about you until he ran out of the kitchen."

"I can handle it," Meara rolled her eyes.

"I'd say you can," he smirked subtly. "Nice move."

"Element of surprise," she retorted, slipping off the bed and pushing her hair back a touch more neatly. "My brother used to do stuff like that all the time, so I have some ideas how to react."

Bruce nodded carefully. According to what he had seen with Zatanna, he was surprised the young woman was so vocal about her brother. Then again, he had only seen the tragedy – not Meara's recovery process – in Zatanna's crystal. Repressing a shiver, he admitted to himself that he was somewhat glad of that fact. He knew firsthand that later effects could be a dozen times worse than the initial shock.

"I'm going to get ready," Meara announced abruptly, as if reading his mind. "Where do I go after I'm done?"

"Just call for me at the bottom of the staircase," he shrugged neatly. "I'll lead you from there. We need to talk more than anything, so Alfred can show you the house later."

Meara was only too happy to clean up and change clothes again after the ordeal she'd experienced the day before, although she could admit to wishing for less standardized clothing. She liked the track suit, just as she had said in the wee hours; more as a lounge outfit than a daywear ensemble, however. But then she should be grateful to have clothes at all. She had nothing of her own in the current reality – boy, was _that_ going to take some getting used to – and doubted she would for a very long time.

Shaking herself, Meara finished pulling on a fresh pair of fleece-lined black boots that matched the ones she had worn the night before, then made her way out into the hall and down the enormous grand staircase. She didn't even have to call for her host, as he was already standing at the bottom, waiting for her.

The curiosity must have shown on her features, because Bruce suddenly said, "Alfred reminded me that you might be uncertain what to call me when you made it down here."

Meara thought it over for a second and realized the butler was quite right. If she had gotten to the bottom of the stairs, she would have floundered over what to call her host. Several possibilities came to mind, but she still wasn't sure.

"Smart man, that Alfred," the young woman commented dryly, following a smirking Bruce across the foyer. The billionaire looked much less broad in his gigantic home than he did in the bat suit, she noted absently, a little more interested at that moment in the beautiful and often old world décor than the person she trusted to help her out in this world.

After entering the extravagant dining room, she finally spoke again with some amusement, "So what _do _I call you?"

"Hm… I don't know," he responded in mock thought, tilting his head with false concentration. "What possibilities were you considering on the stairs back there?"

"Of course you would have deduced that," Meara rolled her eyes.

"Of course," was all Bruce said, somewhat annoyingly smug.

"Before I answer, is um… 'black speech'… permitted as of this moment?"

Bruce halted halfway across the dining room to face his new charge with bald-faced amusement glimmering in his sharp blue eyes. "TheLordoftheRings, Meara? Really?"

"If you don't like it, you know what you can do with it," the young woman in question retorted quietly, arms crossed in front of her. "And you know what I'm talking about."

"At this very moment, go ahead," he nodded once. "The only ones here are the ones who know."

"Well, then," Meara picked up easily, "I considered Batman, Mr_. _Wayne, Bruce, and _Hey_,_ you!_"

Bruce snorted at the last, turning to walk towards the opposite doorway again.

"Oh, and I also thought of this one name," Meara continued humorously as she followed, feeling much more comfortable with this sarcastic, human side of the Batman and Bruce Wayne dual persona. "It's what a certain speedster calls you."

"Call me that and I'll have Alfred put you on a _year's_ worth of laundry and dishes," Bruce threatened with mild traces of the Batman in his voice. For some crazy reason, Meara wasn't much intimidated. Admittedly, it was probably the lack of a terrifying black bat suit.

"Okay," she pleasantly agreed. "I won't call you Bats, then."

Bruce jolted to a stop just before the door, inadvertently allowing Meara to walk ahead of him into the kitchen amidst two bursts of surprised laughter. One proved to be Tim – who faced the doorway – leaning over the kitchen's smaller dining table in a now-silent laugh that shook his shoulders.

The other – slightly lighter – laugh had come from a young man directly opposite of Tim's seat; this one looked a lot like Bruce in some ways, but younger and more cheerful in appearance. Meara felt she would have to be stupid to not know Dick Grayson.

"Goading Master Wayne already, Miss Nolan?" Alfred commented dryly as he emerged from the pantry.

"Don't mind me," Meara shrugged. "I'm just a crazy civilian."

"I should keep my word for the year," Bruce half-growled as he stalked into the kitchen, though he didn't seem as peeved as Meara thought he would have been.

"You never said I couldn't _reference_ the name," she explained cheekily, sitting in the seat on Tim's left that Alfred had pulled out for her.

"She didn't actually _call_ _you_ Bats," Dick inserted wryly. Bruce full-out glared at his adoptive son, who only chuckled and went back to his breakfast.

"Yeah," Meara agreed casually with the eldest of the two young men, ignoring Bruce's continued foul expression as he sat in the chair on Dick's right – incidentally, right across from Meara. She wondered briefly if that was intentional. "Thanks for giving me another loophole."

"No problem," Dick shrugged, grinning slightly. "I'm good with loopholes."

"I'm probably going to need your help a lot then," Meara responded with a slight smile.

"What would you like for breakfast, Miss Nolan?" Alfred wondered as he brought a plate of healthy options to Bruce, who nodded his thanks.

"Um, well I like a lot of things…" Undecided, she just shrugged.

"Best come over and choose then, Miss Nolan," the butler cheerfully informed her. "We have plentiful options."

Laughing a little, the young woman rose and followed him, picking out a large variety of fruits to fill most of her breakfast, along with a plain bagel, cream cheese, and a plain yogurt upon which she would toss a healthy serving of fresh berries from her plate. Upon Alfred's suggestion, Meara accepted the addition of two scrambled eggs for protein.

"Just what are you doing, Miss Nolan?" Alfred scolded her as she reached for a knife from the carving block. She was only going to slice the cantaloupe and apple she had picked out, but paused uncertainly at his tone.

Blinking, she responded simply, "Cutting up the fruit… And my bagel, now that I think about it."

"And since when has that kind of work been _your_ job?" he rebuked her, hands on his hips.

Pursing her lips at the question, Meara answered honestly and confusedly, "Since I was ten."

The playfulness in Alfred's eyes seemed to dull. Tim and Dick glanced over momentarily, but an almost inconspicuous gesture from Bruce made them look away again.

"I see," Alfred remarked with careful casualness, hands dropping from his hips. "Well, do you mind very much if I feel offended by your mistrust in my slicing abilities?"

Meara's lip twitched. "Not really, I suppose. But I am really used to doing things for myself, you know."

"So is _that_ one," the butler remarked dryly, jerking his head towards Bruce. "But you don't see him cutting up his own breakfast, do you?"

"Yes, but you've always worked for him," Meara pointed out logically. "He's used to having a butler. The only thing I'm used to having is a broken dishwasher and a plugged up sink."

Alfred snorted a quiet laugh, shook his head, and took her plate away to cut and cook as needed. Sighing with resignation, the young woman took to her seat again.

"You have to understand Alfred," Bruce explained as though he did not notice the underlying tension at the table. Indeed, Meara figured he purposely ignored it. "If someone in this house is eating a meal, it's a part of his position to serve them entirely. He's been doing it for years and, strangely enough, he likes what he does."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," Meara sighed lightly.

"I was born into it and I'm still not used to it," Bruce quipped, flashing a smirk.

"Why I'm forced to serve the most stubbornly independent people on the planet is beyond me," Alfred muttered just loud enough to be heard, chopping furiously at the fruit with crisp efficiency. Meara smothered a laugh and turned back to her seat so as to avoid a reproving stare from the elder man. Within a minute, he was back at her side with the most nicely sliced and diced breakfast plate she'd ever seen aside from a TV show.

"Okay, maybe I _could_ get used to that," Meara grinned slightly up at Alfred.

Rolling gray eyes to heaven and back, the butler moved away and left the four of them to finish breakfast at their leisure. Tim was out of his seat and rushing through the door of the kitchen before Meara was even half done with her own meal. Dick, too, made his way out in a hurry, although a more dignified one.

"Thank you for breakfast, Alfred," Meara told the elder man when he reappeared to collect the plates left behind.

"My pleasure and duty, Miss Nolan," he replied with a slight smile. "Now, I believe you two had better start your conversation. There must be a great deal to discuss before the social event this evening."

"That there is," Bruce agreed, rising from his seat and waving Meara over. "We'll talk in the library or the lounge. Which do you prefer?"

"Library," was Meara's instant response, rousing a sheepish expression from the young woman as she made her way around the table. "I love being around books."

"All right, the library," Bruce pursed his lips amusedly and led the way into the elegant room in question. The grand, warm-colored space was filled to the heavens with books upon books, a long ladder on each wall to reach the higher shelves. The dark wood was at once opulent and cozy for its rich hues and solid presence. Bruce led Meara past a small seating area near the main door and over to a desk hidden away in one corner of the room.

Taking a seat in one of the firm-yet-comfortable brown suede armchairs, Meara felt as though she were meeting with the dean to battle him on her consistent tendency to over-schedule and work herself harder than the college felt was necessary to complete degree requirements.

"Memories?" Bruce wondered with a raised brow as he pulled out an all-too-thick folder and a notepad.

"Just college," Meara shook her head to clear the cobwebs away. "My dean's office was sort of similar to this room. All dark wood and warm colors."

"Sounds welcoming to the new recruits," commented Bruce with dry approval.

"He wasn't exactly welcoming, per se," Meara remarked wryly, "but you could tell he cared about his students' successes. That's the most important thing, anyway."

"At least there's that," he agreed, turning attention to more crucial matters. "Now, why don't you tell me all you know about this world? About me?"

"I wouldn't say I could write your biography or anything," Meara frowned. "I just know enough to be bothersome, not all-consuming."

"Just tell me what you know," Bruce shrugged and leaned back in his custom leather office chair. "I'm curious."

"Well, if you insist…" Meara began, biting her lip. "I… I know what happened when you were eight. The shooting and how it influenced you to become the batman in time. You trained under Ra's al Ghul for a time and... I think you were almost inducted into the League of Shadows, until you realized they were after destruction rather than justice?"

"True," was all Bruce said, so quietly it was practically to himself.

Seeing he did not intend to continue, Meara pressed on, "You pretend to be the playboy billionaire as a means of subterfuge for your real work as Batman. Jim Gordon trusts you, although I don't think he knows who you really are… His daughter, Barbara, is Batgirl and… um, well, I think she and Dick are close aren't they?"

Bruce smirked blatantly. "If you want to call dancing around each other with cow eyes 'close,' then I suppose they are."

Meara laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, well what about your on-off thing with Selina Kyle, a-k-a Catwoman, who happens to be a huge jewel thief?"

"That doesn't count," Bruce countered easily. "Our tension was because Selina sidelines the law in favor of her jewel hunts. Although there isn't any dancing now. We ended any chances between us almost three years ago."

"Is that because you both agreed to it?" Meara wondered. "Or because she did something you couldn't stomach?"

"I don't see a difference," was Bruce's calm answer.

"Well, in the latter case," the young woman explained, "Selina might not be on the same page as you. I mean, are you sure she understands there are no more chances to take?"

"We clearly discussed it," Bruce answered, sounding and looking annoyed.

Backing off, Meara moved on. "You took Richard Grayson in after his parents were killed during their acrobatic act. He became the first Robin, then later he became Nightwing. Although… I thought he moved to Bludhaven when he did that... I'm a little confused."

"He hasn't become 'Nightwing' yet," Bruce commented with interest, brows lifted. "He's been playing around with a different persona for a while, but hasn't found anything."

"Unfortunately," Meara continued uncomfortably, "I think he found it because the two of you had a pretty bad argument and he moved to Bludhaven. Which is why I was confused. With Tim here… well I thought Dick would already have become the protector of Bludhaven."

The room went silent along with Meara, Bruce's features turned to stone in the face of this information.

"Sorry," Meara had to say, shrinking in her seat.

"Go on," Bruce demanded, steepling his fingers against his mouth.

"I'm not sure why you took Tim in," the young woman admitted. "I just know he became the new Robin. There was a young girl who joined the group act later – her name was Cassandra."

"Well, I don't know of her yet," Bruce concluded with shrug.

"She became Batgirl after…" Meara paused uncertainly, but quickly tried to cover her slip, "after an accident with Barbara."

"Accident?" Bruce sat up straighter in his seat, eyes sparking keenly. "Explain."

"The Joker," admitted Meara very quietly. "I don't know if it was him personally or someone else, but Barbara was shot and paralyzed waist down. That may have been an inadvertent reason why you and Dick had your argument, but I can't say for certain… Barbara became 'Oracle' later on, refusing to be left out of helping your work. She was the information center, you could say."

"Sounds like Barbara," Bruce murmured to himself, but something dangerous lurked in the depths of his gaze. "Please, continue."

Meara tried to think of something a little less depressing, but Bruce Wayne's life was pretty much just one barrel of depression after another, no matter what one discussed. "Um, you had a misguided relationship with Ra's al Ghul's daughter, Tahlia?"

Bruce blinked a split-second before snorting loudly. "I should hire you as my publicist."

"Why?" Meara wondered blankly.

"That kind of wording is exactly what people in my position want to go out there," her host explained amusedly. "Misguided, star-crossed, ill-conceived… All references to something the person in question either couldn't help or didn't fully understand going into it."

"In other words, delegating blame?"

"You could say that," Bruce nodded and shrugged at the same time. "With me, it's not quite as important, since my public face is _supposed_ to be a complete swine without fail. But on occasions like the one with Tahlia, it was necessary to redefine the relationship, so that Bruce Wayne's connections to her were in no way traced to Batman's connections."

"I would make a terrible publicist," Meara decided with a grimace. "That sounds ridiculously complicated."

"Oh, it is," the hero agreed. "But you'll have to do something similar anyway, now that you're living here."

"Great," sighed Meara. "What exactly am I going to be for the public, anyway? I know technically you'll have adopted me, but…"

"I don't think you need to be my adopted child, actually," Bruce considered. "I was thinking more along the lines of my personal employee. Like Alfred."

"You weren't… _serious_ about that publicist thing, were you?" the young woman asked incredulously, eyes widening. "I don't know the first thing about it!"

"What were you going to college for?" he asked calmly.

"Architecture," Meara answered, voice weak.

"Well, I suppose I could give you an internship with our urban planning department," Bruce pondered the idea for a moment, brushing his chin thoughtfully. "You can still finish your degree at Gotham University, but the internship would be excellent experience and a wonderful mark on your resume. What do you think?"

"I guess so," she responded slowly, stunned. "If you really think it will work?"

"Of course," he smirked a bit. "If _I_ set it all up."

"Show off," Meara muttered, rolling her eyes.

"That's settled then," Bruce moved on, ignoring the gesture. "So… you know all about the League. Clark, Diana, John, Wally, Shayera, and J'onn."

A grin split Meara's face. "I didn't want to say anything if you didn't already know. Not that I doubted you did, but ah…"

"Just in case," he preempted her again, smiling slightly in spite of himself. "Yes, I figured I should save you the trouble."

"Just in case," Meara quoted back at him mockingly. "Anyway. Superman, a-k-a Clark Kent or Kal-El, is from the planet Krypton. His parents sent him off the planet for his survival before Krypton was destroyed, and he was found by Jonathan and Martha Kent, who live in Smallville. He has a cousin, Kara, also known as Supergirl. Clark works at the Daily Planet as a reporter and has feelings for Lois Lane. He has an ongoing feud with Lex Luthor, Darkseid, & Brainiac. And you could say he has an 'allergy' to green kryptonite, a hunk of which you carry in a protective section on your utility belt for added security."

"Diplomatic," Bruce snorted quietly. "Go on."

"J'onn is from Mars," Meara continued as asked, "and he lost his wife and kids to the Aliens who tried to take over Earth. He was imprisoned on military ground and Superman set him free when you were trying to fight the Alien Invaders. J'onn is telepathic, a shape-shifter, and very lonely. Wally West, the Flash, can run at speeds I don't even know how to describe. He's punchy, smart-alecky, and needs a kick to get moving in the right direction sometimes, but he's loyal and friendly."

"Green Lantern?" Bruce prompted.

"John Stewart is a former marine and current member of the Green Lanterns," Meara answered immediately. "He was born and raised in Detroit. He's demanding, suspicious, and downright anal-retentive. Had a relationship with Katma Tui, also of the Green Lanterns, and has a current, um, 'interest' in Hawkgirl. Speaking of which – her name is Shayera Hol, she's from Thanagar, and she has feelings for John as well. And she's… er… a little overzealous with the mace."

Meara tried not to think of Hawkgirl's current web of lies, completely uncertain how to go about it. She felt that Hawkgirl was misinformed and blinded by an old flame. And she certainly didn't want to break up the League when Shayera was still so necessary to the team. God only knew how bad things would get if Shayera was not still close to the League during the future Invasion. She was, after all, the reason they defeated the Thanagarians.

"You're holding out on me," Bruce remarked blankly, giving away no expression on his face. Meara became quite nervous in the wake of that stillness and emptiness; it was far too much like the Batman side of the coin.

"How so?" Meara asked, knowing full well she could hardly fool him for long. Although if it came to that, she would outright refuse to explain.

"You didn't mention the real reason Shayera came to Earth in the first place," Bruce remarked just as blankly.

Meara broke into a sweat. She hadn't expected that. How the man could know such things, she was afraid to find out.

"I know she has been informing the Thanagarians of Earth's potential and our secrets," Bruce continued with piercing eyes. "And I also know that she will likely regret it and turn on her homeworld to help us in the end. And I can see why you would neglect that bit of information."

"If you know everything, why ask me?" Meara smarted, but she didn't feel the remark like she usually would have.

"Because I didn't see all the details which might help me form a plan of action against this future invasion and potentially get Shayera on our side before that invasion even happens."

Meara sighed. There was no point in holding back now that Bruce knew.

"I don't know when the invasion will happen. It was a cartoon, not a documentary. All I know is that Shayera is engaged to Hro Talak, who will lead the Thanagarian invasion force. His second-in-command is power-hungry and doesn't like Shayera at all, so he'll do anything to prove her disloyalty if he can. You end up revealing identities when Wally doesn't want to show his true face to all of you for subterfuge. John gets captured and fights Hro at the end of it all. Shayera helps John because of her feelings. The League votes on Shayera's membership, but she resigns before any verdict can be delivered. She leaves as herself and doesn't come back for a long time."

"Worst reactions in the League?" Bruce inquired seriously.

"Diana ends up having a lot of bitter feelings towards Shayera because of the betrayal – more than anyone else. I'm pretty sure it has to do with being raised in a sisterhood mentality like Themyscira. Shayera's betrayal was worse than any of yours would be, because Diana viewed Shayera as a sister like her fellow Amazons had been. Especially after that whole battle with Aresia, I imagine."

Bruce nodded as though he already expected this, and moved on with surprising speed, "Tell me about Diana."

"Diana is from Themyscira," Meara explained more cautiously, acknowledging how much she wished there were something between the two heroes and recognizing the low likelihood of Bruce's acceptance in that arena. Not that a little hint was bad idea… "She stole her costume & relative powers to help man's world. Wally got her hooked on Iced Mochas and J'onn had a pretty good bond with her after that deal with Amazo and Lex Luthor. Diana was unfairly – in my opinion – exiled after defeating Felix Faust because she allowed the male members of the League onto Themyscira. There was that kill-off-the-men thing with Aresia, as I said before, which probably hurt even more thanks to Diana's exile. During Vandal Savage's alternate time Diana had that little thing with Steve Trevor, and then unfortunately met Savage again when she hung out with Princess Audrey of Kasnia, now the Queen… And you still owe her a dance."

"Just stick to the topic," Bruce insisted coolly, lifting a challenging brow at Meara.

"Just saying," she shrugged.

"Don't tell me," the hero sighed disdainfully. "There's a fan club for that."

Meara could only blush.

Bruce rolled his eyes broadly and sat forward at the desk. "Anything else I should be forewarned of?"

"Superman will be seemingly killed by Toyman in the near future. But he's only transported to a different time. He'll come back. Good thing, too, because Lobo would _seriously_ get on your nerves. As a matter of fact, he would probably make a pacifist turn terrorist."

Bruce chuckled at that one, his memories of Lobo only reinforcing Meara's theory one-hundred percent.

"Now, I guess, we have to go over what I know and don't know, publicly-speaking?" the young woman asked with a resigned exhale.

"The second most important part of today," Bruce nodded, some unnamed sparkle hidden very well in his eyes.

"Only the second most?" Meara wondered amazedly. "What's the first?"

"Alfred will be only too happy to show you," Bruce smirked conspiratorially.

Meara could hardly have imagined that shopping came under the category of 'important' alongside superhero alter-egos, but Alfred assured her quite strongly that it did.

"One's costume, Miss Nolan, is exceptionally important in waylaying any suspicion," the butler informed her as they drove back to Wayne Manor after several hours in every shop and stylist Gotham had to offer to its elite class.

In the first place, Meara didn't even understand half of the fashions she had seen. If women wanted to torture themselves, she figured they may as well use whatever was on hand in their basement rather than pay exorbitant prices for it.

In the second place, she felt awkward on their first stop, walking in an oversized black tracksuit and fuzzy slipper boots through a shop that sold Elie Saab. By contrast, the young woman had ended up leaving in a tan, two-piece pantsuit with a teal blue blouse and matching high heels. Every single clerk in the place had looked askance at least once.

Thirdly, Meara hadn't even really picked out anything on her own. Alfred had commandeered most of it, knowing what was suitable to her age and the social arena she was entering into. Unfortunately this meant she was wearing a lot of things she would never have chosen for herself otherwise. But then she had a lot more to think about now than just her fashion sense. The Bruce/Batman secret was the priority; many lives depended on its survival. The reminder of names and secrets brought a thought from earlier that day back into Meara's head with annoying insistency.

"Alfred, what _do_ I call him?" she asked the butler frustratedly, aiming an agitated expression above the half-raised privacy window between them.

The elder gentleman laughed lightly, but genuinely. "You never did get around to that, did you? Well, Miss Nolan, I would suggest you stay casual at home, and professional-formal anywhere outside of it."

"What does that even mean, Alfred?" she wondered exasperatedly.

"In other words," he explained patiently, making the turn into the long drive of Wayne manor, "I would call him 'Bruce' when there are no visitors at the house. 'Mr. Wayne' will be the most suitable at any other time."

"Thank you," the young woman sighed in relief, slouching back into her seat a little and examining the new fashion ring on her right pinky. "It's just… odd, you know? We're strangers, yet I know him like I've lived her all the time. How do come to terms with that? I don't want to assume I know everything and just… push my way through everyone's lives."

"You have hardly done that, Miss Nolan," Alfred comforted her as they came around the last bend to the house. "Master Wayne understands you had no choice in this situation, as do his sons. Believe me, they all know what it feels like to have no choice."

"Thank you, Alfred," Meara murmured appreciatively, feeling infinitely reassured.

"Ah, I believe we have a visitor," the butler exclaimed with supposed excitement, his face speaking to quite the opposite feeling as they pulled towards the front of the manor. "And I believe he is waiting to meet you, Miss Nolan."

"Who is it?" Meara wondered nervously, glancing around, but unable to see the person clearly through the windows a little tan car than looked kind of beaten up.

"I believe it is Mr. Kent," Alfred sighed slightly. "Master Wayne will be most unhappy."

"Don't you mean murderous?" Meara muttered with a wince, reaching preemptively for her new Prada clutch with careful fingers. Looking out again, she now recognized Superman as his 'other self' in a tan suit not dissimilar to her own as he stood from his vehicle.

Stifling a laugh with a rather unproductive little cough, Alfred finally rolled to smooth stop and came around to open Meara's door.

"Good morning, Mr. Kent," Alfred sighed in a mixture of exasperated amusement and resigned acceptance while Meara stood from the vehicle. "Master Wayne was not expecting you."

"I know, Alfred," Clark puffed a little self-conscious laugh, reaching up to adjust his glasses uncertainly. "But I knew I was the only one who could see how things were."

A covert glance in Meara's direction cleared up exactly what things he was talking about.

"I'm doing fine, Mr. Kent," the young woman answered for herself, feeling a little gleeful that she could start talking in code, so to speak. "Mr. Wayne has been treating me very well after my illness."

"Glad to hear it," Clark grinned a little, having no trouble recognizing her bit of fun. "Not that I expected anything less from such a charitable man as Bruce Wayne."

"Why don't you show Mr. Kent inside, Miss Nolan?" Alfred suggested amusedly. His expression seemed to say she was being a bit silly, but that he didn't really mind. "I have no doubt Mr. Wayne is anxious to speak to him."

"If I must," Meara muttered awkwardly, but quickly moved forward. "Thank you, Alfred, for everything today."

"You are quite welcome, Miss Nolan," the butler informed her with a quick, but genuine smile. "Would you like me to pack away your purchases, or would you prefer to do that yourself?"

Seeing by his face that Alfred already guessed her preference and did not feel slighted by it, Meara smiled back and answered, "I'd love to do it myself. Thank you."

"Very well, Miss," he nodded understandingly and headed around to the driver's side.

"I'll probably see you very soon, Alfred," Clark promised knowingly.

"Oh, I know, sir," Alfred barely contained his chuckle as he slide into the vehicle and shut the door. Meara and Clark watched him head off towards the garage until he disappeared from sight behind the manor.

"Well, Mr. Kent," Meara sighed at last, turning to her companion with an anticipatory look. "I have a feeling the look of doom awaits you, but there's no point delaying it."

Clark laughed, waving her up the steps ahead of himself. "Don't worry too much. I know what to expect by now. And it won't be a friendly grin."

A snort escaped Meara, and out of nowhere she remembered their matching suits. "You know, I'm not quite sure how to take our matching attire."

"Is there something wrong with it?" the superhero asked, genuinely curious, and Meara laughed at his worry.

"No, of course not!" she assured him, allowing him to open the front door of the manor.

"One could disagree with that statement," came an irritated voice from behind them. Turning suddenly, Meara found Bruce Wayne himself hurrying up the steps with a scowl on his handsome face. Clark was unsurprised, clearly having heard the other man well before then, and appeared entirely unperturbed by Bruce's attitude.

"So sorry," Meara retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I wouldn't have spent your millions on it if I'd known how you felt about tan suits. Nice to have met you, Mr. Kent. Have a better afternoon after you leave _here_."

With that said, Meara continued through the open door of the manor and started up the stairs to the Aether room, ignoring her host's snorted response, "I'm starting to think I should have left _her_ at the Watchtower."

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A/N: Not sure exactly how this is going to work out, but I'm having fun with it! And as I have been putting on my profile and elsewhere, please have update patience. :)

Please Review!


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